Suppose two farmers settle in the open, bleak prairies of the West. Each plants an orchard. One in the broad plain, exposed to sun and wind; the other surrounds his lot with a doable row of Norway fir, pines, or other evergreens, and then plants his fruit-trees alternately with the black spruce, or some similar tree. Which, at the end of thirty years, would be the most thrifty, and which would have produced the most regularly? The protected orchard probably would. In support of this opinion, I offer: First. Orchards, otherwise as well situated in the prairie country, but protected by woods, grow and bear better than those in the open prairie. Second. Fruit-trees, in a wooded country, bear and flourish better than those in a prairie country, other things being equal. Third. Great and sudden changes of temperature are injurious to fruit-trees. Those who have travelled in winter, in prairie countries, know the temperature is much milder and more equable in the woods than in the open prairies. The same is experienced where there are large, open fields in countries originally timbered.

Fourth. The old men in timbered countries almost all recollect, that the first orchards, when the openings were small, were more fruitful and healthy than now, when cultivation has destroyed most of the forests. Fifthly. I set out a number of evergreens two years ago. Part of these were well protected with forest timber - part were not. The first were scarcely touched by the past or present winter, while the unprotected were all scathed, and some killed. Fruit-trees, especially peach-trees, were much injured by last winter; those well protected, scarcely at all. There was abundant evidence of this in my orchards.

That evergreens would be better than other timber, I do not know. My recollection of the pine woods of Virginia is, that they are warmer than other woods in cold, windy weather. But in Ohio, where I have spent most of my life, evergreens are scarce,, and I have never witnessed their influence on fruit-trees. Differing as they do in their growth and habits, I have supposed they would rob fruit-trees less than other forest-trees would. That is, that each kind of tree might find its own proper nourishment with little injury to the other. The great object of writing this is, that I may possibly induce you, Mr. Editor, or some of your numerous readers, to communicate some facts, from good authority or personal knowledge, showing the effect which evergreens and fruit-trees have on each other. So sanguine am I, that already I have some growing. But many years must elapse before mine will tell the tale.

The experiment should be a fair one. Young trees set in near proximity to old ones, are always injured. The experiment, to be fair, should be where trees of not greatly dissimilar ages have grown to maturity together. In the old yards and grounds of the Eastern States, and of England, I should think this had often occurred. Who will let us know?

By my theory, the apple, pear, and peach, love company. They seem to me to have been in their natural habitat, much like our plum, crab-apple, hawthorn, etc. The plum and crab-apple, if left by themselves, where woods are cleared into fields, usually soon perish, but, if left sparsely interspersed with other trees, they flourish greatly, and bear abundantly. Even the oak seems to love association. Where it grows singly, it sends out its long, horizontal limbs, as if in search of that shade and protection, which no kind neighbor affords it. Nature starts all her forests in thickets, and thins them out as room is needed. How cruel, then, is it in man to set out a pear-tree, and keep every protecting shoot cut, or rubbed off five to eight feet high, and then how foolish to grumble that it died. A thorough study of this matter, connected with proper experiments, might develop important results. In the long run, the protecting trees might be nearly as valuable as the fruit-trees. In the prairies, I believe something of this kind will be found indispensable. Where the forests are chiefly destroyed, it is almost equally necessary. Especially is this true of the pear.

Dodridge, in his Notes on Western Virginia, says: "Pear blight was unknown, while the openings were small." This is true, also, of Ohio. In the prairies, it is almost coeval with the first planting. In England, and wherever the sun is less powerful, and the climate more equable, such protection may be unnecessary.